A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes
by amygerrard
Summary: When the gang have no holiday spirit, Bonnie suggests a dream spell which will show them their idea of a perfect Christmas. What will happen when Damon and Elena realise their dreams are interlinked?


**AN: This is another fic for the A2A Christmas Exchange over on LJ! Thank you to Kate for beta'ing and listening to my ideas and plans for this :) Enjoy!**

_Prompt by tamilnadu: Our 6 main characters (Elena, Damon, Stefan, Caroline, Bonnie, and Jeremy) are sitting in the Boarding House on Xmas Eve but none of them feel like celebrating. Bonnie then takes out a snow globe that she has used magic on: whoever shakes the snow globe will be transported into their version of the perfect Christmas (i.e. what they truly wish for). So all the 6 characters shake the snow globe and fall into a trance/dream. The other 4 characters all have their own dreams (not necessary to go into detail) but Damon and Elena realize that they are within the same dream...because they are each other's true wish ;) What happens within the dream is up to you!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Vampire Diaries'.**_  
_

* * *

"Ugh, if I'd known you would all be Debbie-downers tonight, I wouldn't have let you come over," Damon grumbled, collapsing onto the couch. His bourbon sloshed against the glass but he didn't pay it any attention; even if it spilled, it would give him the excuse to top it off even quicker.

He reclined onto the cushions, sliding his arm along the back of the couch as his fingers grazed Elena's shoulder. Although he stared straight ahead, he didn't miss the almost infinitesimal shiver that ran down her spine. He smirked to himself as he raised his glass to his lips and took a deep swallow of the amber liquid.

"Well, you aren't exactly the greatest bundle of joy, either," Bonnie retorted, sending him a sarcastic smile that had Damon rolling his eyes. When the little witch attempted to glare at him, his focus shifting to the rest of their companions; he and Elena were sharing the couch (despite the sizeable gap at the end of it, there was only a mere inch separating their bodies and, every now and then, their knees would knock, fingers would graze denim and eyes would meet), Stefan reclined against the corner of the two-seater with Caroline perched on the edge and Bonnie occupied the arms of it with Jeremy splayed on the floor beside her legs, his head resting against the side of the couch.

Damon wagged his finger at her teasingly, "Ah, but I was happy enough in my own company. _You_ are the ones that called over here."

Bonnie arched her eyebrow, raising her index finger towards him. "And, _you_ were the one who let us in."

"A mistake that will haunt me for all eternity," he quipped. "And one, I most definitely will not be repeating."

Stefan frowned, raising a hand in the air as he interjected, "You do realise that I live here, right?"

"As if I could forget," Damon sighed, rubbing his fingers along his forehead wearily. "Your broodiness shrouds the whole house in its broody cloud of brooding."

Elena bit her lip, trying desperately to stifle the giggles that were bubbling in her throat. Unable to hold it in any longer, she let out a quiet squeak as she ducked her head into her chest, trying to avoid the glare that Stefan shot her.

"See," Damon smirked, shuffling his denim-clad leg to the side so it met Elena's from knee to hip. "Elena agrees with me."

Elena turned on him, her brow lifting. "I never said that, I merely laughed at how many times you used broody and its derivatives in that one sentence."

"And yet," he teased, tapping his fingertip against her nose. "You're still not denying that you agree with me."

"Well- I-" she stammered before flashing her doe eyes at Stefan, an apologetic look on her face.

Caroline's back straightened as she took in Stefan's defeatist pose. "What would you know about being broody, Damon? I doubt your pea-sized brain could actually cope with more than five words at a time."

"Coming from the blonde," he scoffed, his blue eyes twinkling as he swiftly dodged the pillow that the she in question threw in his direction.

Caroline huffed, blowing a blonde curl into the air. "Oh, please! I'm sure I have more intelligence in my pinkie finger than you have in your whole brain."

"Caroline," Elena groaned, leaning her head against the back of the couch and, consequently, Damon's forearm.

"Don't you dare," the blonde accused shrilly, rising from her chair. Elena looked up in surprise when she saw Caroline's elevated stance. "Don't you _dare_ take his side!"

Damon watched on in amusement as Elena bit her lip thoughtfully and opened her mouth silently a few times before the words finally spewed from her throat. "Well, you _did_ kind of start it."

Damon smirked to himself as he stared at the brunette beside him; her cheeks rosy with embarrassment (he guessed it was because of Caroline's grunts of annoyance), her fluttering eyes as she looked everywhere in the parlour apart from at him and her tongue that darted out every few seconds to wet her bottom lip. "Go ahead, babe," he encouraged, leaning back in the chair nonchalantly as he moved his arm from the back of the couch to wrap around Elena's waist and winked at her ostentatiously. "Fight in my corner."

Caroline sneered unattractively, "I don't see how you can even stand to sit near him, he's such a –"

"Enough, Care!" Elena interjected tiredly, smiling softly when she felt Damon's hand squeeze her waist comfortingly. "We're supposed to be celebrating. Christmas, remember?"

"What's there to celebrate?" Jeremy grumbled, his first words of the night since his mumbled a dull "Hey" at the door. "I'm a potential hunter and because we don't really know anything about it, I could potentially flip out and kill all of the vampires in this town. Bonnie's magic still hasn't come back so we're down a witch if any more enemies come along. Caroline and Tyler broke up and, no offence, but I don't want to be here when you reach the whining and/or sobfest stage of that break-up. Stefan and Elena broke up too, which makes this super awkward because they're trying to act like it's not awkward. And, Damon... Well, Damon's just a douchebag."

"Thanks, kid," Damon smirked. "That was just the kind of inspirational speech we all needed to lift our spirits. Now, I feel like we should bake cookies and sing carols while we dance around in the snow."

Jeremy scowled. "Cut it out with the sarcasm, Damon."

"Or, what?" Damon taunted, his blue eyes brightening with each frown line that appeared on Jeremy's forehead. "Are you going to go all badass-hunter on me?"

"Damon," Elena warned, placing her hand on his knee. "Don't –"

"You should watch out, Damon," Jeremy interjected, pushing himself to his feet.

Stefan's jaw clenched as he noticed Elena's hand was still on Damon's knee and, by the way his brother's eyes kept darting that way, Damon had noticed it, too. "I'm going to hunt," he declared, sliding off the couch as he began to stalk towards the door.

Caroline sprung up after him, "Stefan, wait!"

"Everybody just stop!"

Bonnie's voice made everyone pause, their words dying on their tongues as the witch sat calmly in her chair; her pinched face and racing heart contradicted her posture and pose. "It's supposed to be Christmas; the one day where we let everything go and just _be._ So, can we all do that? Try to, at the very least, get along? We can go back to hating each other tomorrow."

They all exchanged glances, weighing up the pros and cons before they slowly made their way back to their respective seats. Everyone turned to stare at Bonnie simultaneously, looking to her for guidance as she began to rifle through her bag.

"Aha!" she exclaimed happily, although she failed to remove her hands from her bag. "I know you guys think I can't do magic but... the truth is, I've been practicing and it's slowly coming back to me."

"Oh, bravo, witchy poo!" Damon mocked, clapping his hands together sarcastically. "Do you want a gold star?" Bonnie's jaw clenched as she stared him down, her eyes burning with hate.

"Okay," Elena laughed breathlessly, breaking apart the staring contest between her best friend and her– Well, _Damon_. "Damon, maybe you could try not to antagonise Bonnie because of the, you know, whole aneurysm thing she can do."

"Ah," he wagged his finger dramatically. "But can she still do that?"

"I'm all for testing it out," Bonnie ground out, glaring at Damon warningly.

Caroline sighed, falling back against the chair. "Bonnie, please just get on with whatever is in the bag."

Bonnie nodded, eyeing Damon one more time before her hands emerged from the bag. Inside her grasp was a snow globe; a perfectly normal-looking snow globe with a Christmas tree and a tiny, little snowman inside.

Before anyone could offer their commentary, Bonnie spoke, "I've been channelling some of my magic in here. The less risk, the better but I came across a spell. A dream spell."

"What's a dream spell?" Jeremy asked, looking up at her earnestly from his position on the floor.

"For this particular one, it means that anyone who shakes this snow globe will be transferred into the dream world. There, they will dream of what they truly wish their life was like," Bonnie smiled, her eyes flashing towards Jeremy.

Damon raised his eyebrow suspiciously, "Have you done it before?"

"Once or twice," she blushed, her eyes flicking towards Jeremy's face every so often before darting away quickly. "It works, no side effects."

"So, we'll remember everything from our dream?" Elena asked.

"Yes," Bonnie nodded. "The spell just uncovers your one true wish from your head and lets you live in it, even if just for a few minutes. It's amazing."

"So, let's do it!" Caroline cheered, rushing over towards Bonnie. "I want to go first."

"Uh-uh," Damon interjected, shaking his head negatively. "Not happening. I don't want to have to wait here while you're dreaming of Lockwood or Princess-land or whatever the hell you'd wish for."

"We could try doing it all at once," Stefan hedged, ever the mediator, leaning his elbows forwards and onto his knees. "That way no one would have to wait."

"It could work," Bonnie acquiesced.

"Could work?" Damon quipped, nodding his head. "Great."

"Damon," Elena sighed softly and the tone in her voice made him cave.

"Fine," he grinned tightly at the Bennett witch. "Let's do it."

They all formed a circle and, as Bonnie held the snow globe in the middle, all of them reached in to wrap a hand around it.

_Eos nix cadentibus,  
Somnus vocantem.  
__Sicut et nos somnia somniabunt,  
Magica erit putes  
quae volunt concedere  
Et explicit iste cantus._

Bonnie's chanting faded as their heads began to roll, their eyes closing as they were lost to the darkness.

* * *

_I just want to be normal._

"Jeremy, honey," a soft voice whispered as he felt his body being gently shaken from side to side. "Wake up."

He mumbled unintelligibly, wriggling around on the soft thing beneath him. Where was he again? His eyes fluttered open slowly, realising that he was lying in his bed. He rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes as he let out a loud yawn. His head was pounding and his vision was blurry.

Was that horrible stench coming from him? he wondered. If so, he was in desperate need of a shower. God, what had happened to him?

"Get up and get ready, son," the voice whispered, petting the hair from his forehead. "It's Christmas Eve and you have to be at the church in two hours."

"Mom?" he grumbled, squinting his eyes as the form of his mother came into view; bouncing, brunette curls framed an oval-shaped face, her hazel eyes shone brightly as she sent him a loving smile.

She sat down on the bed beside him, swiping her hand across his forehead. "Just how much did you have to drink last night?"

Now, he remembered.

His bachelor party.

His plan of a few quiet drinks had clearly gone downhill then. His face scrunched as he

tried to recall the previous night but all he could remember was turning up to the bar and ordering that first shot. "I'm not quite sure. Matt kept refilling my glass, I think."

Miranda arched her eyebrow and shook her head wearily, though Jeremy could still see the small smile that played on her lips. "I hope Bonnie knows what she's getting herself into."

"She said yes, didn't she," he grinned, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. He palmed his forehead as the room spun around him in a mixture of blue and black, his walls and floor merging into one. He groaned, gripping onto his bedside table for support as he slid back onto the bed and thought of his beautiful wife-to-be. "She's going to kill me."

"No, she's not," Miranda retorted, gripping his arm as she helped him off of the mattress. "Your father is downstairs ironing your shirt and I have your hangover cure ready to go but first, you need to shower and get all of that writing off of you."

"What writing?" he frowned. His mother nodded towards his naked chest and he rolled his eyes at the sight. _I'm getting married in the morning. Please, save me! _"I'm going to kill them," he muttered, stroking his finger along the red lettering that he realised was lipstick when it smudged against his creamy flesh.

Why a bunch of six men had a tube of lipstick between them, he didn't know, but he found that he didn't really care. There was a much more pressing issue at hand. He was getting married in just a few short hours. He couldn't shake the grin that had glued itself to his face as he stalked - somewhat unsteadily - towards the bathroom.

"Remember to wash your back," Miranda called after him, desperately trying to stifle her giggles at the word that had been written across his shoulder blades. _Whipped._

* * *

_I just want to be someone's first choice._

"What, Mom?" Caroline grumbled, hearing the timid knock on the door.

She wasn't in the mood to speak to anyone, right now. It was Christmas Eve and she was already preparing herself for a lonely Christmas Day. It was inevitable. Every Christmas, since she was ten, she had been abandoned at some point during the festivities. In fact, she had taken to creating her own game out of the whole day. She'd make bets on how long it would take before her mother had to rush off for a work emergency.

When she was younger, she hadn't really realised it. Her mother hadn't been the sheriff then and, consequently, had only left when she had been absolutely needed. In those times, much of the day had already passed and because of her young age, all she had missed was being tucked in. Instead, her next-door neighbour had fulfilled that task and Caroline had gone to bed none the wiser.

As the years passed, however, she began to notice her mom's absence more and more. As she moved up in the ranks of the police department, Caroline moved down in her priorities; so much so, that last year she hadn't even seen her mom at all on Christmas Day. All she had received was a hastily written note that explained that there had been some kind of emergency (wasn't there always) and she'd been called into the office. Caroline had been left to cook dinner by herself, and because her culinary skills were severely lacking, she'd made do with noodles that came in a packet.

"Caroline," Liz greeted, slowly stepping into her daughter's room. Her hands clasped behind her back as she faced Caroline's indifferent expression; her eyebrows were raised in silent question, her lips were slightly pouted but her blue eyes that reminded her so much of her own, were void of emotion. She almost wondered if Caroline had flipped the switch.

"Mom, I don't want to hear your excuses about why you won't be here tomorrow, so if that's all you came in here for then you can just close the door on your way out."

Caroline noticed the wince that marred her mother's features but she quickly averted her eyes to her bed sheets as she pulled mindlessly at a stray thread. She knew it had been harsh but she just wasn't in the mood. Sure, she put up a front to her friends about being the happy Christmas elf but not now. She was too exhausted, the emotional strain of the holiday already taking its toll on her.

Liz breathed in shakily, stepping forward cautiously before sinking down onto the corner of the mattress. "Do you prefer Cranberry sauce or Bread sauce?"

Caroline's head shot up, her blonde curls slicing through the air with her quick movement. "What?" she frowned.

Liz smiled carefully, shrugging her shoulders. "For the turkey."

"Mom," Caroline shook her head from side to side. "There's no point making a turkey just for me. Technically, I don't even need food so don't waste your time on it."

"What if I told you that it wouldn't be dinner for one tomorrow?"

Caroline stared at her mother imploringly, registering the slight quirk of her thin lips that Caroline had come to associate it with her 'secret smile'; the smile that had been on her face before Caroline had walked in on her surprise birthday party five years ago, the smile that had been on her face every time Caroline had thought she'd successfully stolen a cookie from the jar without her mother noticing and it was the smile that had been on her face when Liz had told Caroline, shortly after the divorce that had torn their family apart, that, no matter what, Caroline would always have her mother to go to.

"You actually get to stay for dinner, then?" Even Caroline could hear the thinly veiled excitement in her voice. "And then you'll be on call, right?"

Liz shook her head, reaching forward as she twirled her finger around a wisp of Caroline's blonde hair and slowly tucked it behind her ear. "We have the whole day together. If this past year has made me realise anything, it's that life is too short. And, I don't want to miss any more of these moments, Caroline."

"Oh, Mom," Caroline gasped, wrapping her arms around her mother's shoulders as she pulled the older woman against her. She closed her eyes painfully, feeling the dampness on her T-shirt where Liz's head rested. "For the record, you have to have both."

Liz chuckled, hugging her daughter tighter as she basked in the warmth of the simple act of holding her child.

* * *

_I just want to be strong._

"Isla, listen to me," Bonnie commanded, staring down at her fifteen-year old daughter. "You have to learn about these sorts of things."

Isla rolled her brown eyes skyward before focusing on the candle in front of her. Her forehead scrunched and her eyes squinted as she willed the candle to flame, even one tiny flicker would do.

Nothing.

They'd been trying for the past two hours but she had yet to succeed in lighting a candle with her mind. "I can't do it, Mom."

"Yes, you can," Bonnie encouraged, grasping her daughter's hands in her own. "I know it's hard."

"_Pfft_," Isla scoffed, blowing an errant curl from her eyes. "What would you know about it being hard? You can do any spell you want without even thinking about it."

Bonnie nodded her head in understanding and rose from her perched position in front of Isla. She stepped over towards the bookcase and ran her finger along the spines until she found the red, leather-bound book she was looking for. She made her way over to the armchair her daughter was slumped down in and sat on the arm. She rested the book on her thigh as she thumbed through the pages.

"Here," she pointed towards a photo of two caramel-skinned women. "That's me when I was your age and that's my Grams, your great-grandmother."

Isla leaned forward subconsciously, her eyes drawn to the teenage form of her mother. "Why are you showing me this?" she sighed.

Bonnie shut the book cover tightly and held it to her chest for a moment before resting it on her thigh again. "When I was your age, I was as confused by magic as you are now. My Grams helped me through it but, with her passing, I had to deal with it myself. I would push myself and push myself until..."

Isla slid her hand over her mother's and tangled their fingers together. "Until?" she asked warily, noticing the faraway look in her mother's eyes and with the slight sparkle in her brown eyes, she could have sworn it was a tear in her mother's eye.

"I nearly died. A few times actually. But you know what they say, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I'm strong now, Is, and I got that way through practice." She lifted her daughter's hand to her lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles.

"But," Isla sighed, chewing on her lip thoughtfully before raising her eyes to meet her mother's, "what if I just, can't?"

"I'll be here until you can," Bonnie reassured her, wrapping her arm around her neck as she pressed a soft kiss to Isla's forehead. "Now, go and get some rest. You worked hard today."

Isla nodded, squeezing her mother's hand. She stood up from her chair, pausing momentarily as her eyes focused on the candle in front of her. Grasping onto her mother's fingers she concentrated deeply, letting out a soft grunt in exertion before a tall flame sprouted from the candle before diminishing into a soft ember.

"I did it!" she squealed, falling into her mother's arms as the familiar scent of cinnamon began to fill the room. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, baby," Bonnie beamed, rising from her chair as she gently shuffled her daughter up the stairs to get some much-needed and well-deserved rest. Bonnie sighed in content as she felt two strong arms wrap around her. She allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder as he slowly rocked them from side to side.

"She's going to be okay, Jer," she murmured happily, resting her hands over his.

"I never doubted it," Jeremy whispered, nuzzling against her ear. "After all, she's strong, just like her mother."

* * *

_I just want to be human._

"Grandpa!" the little red-haired child grinned, hugging his leg tightly.

Stefan chuckled, leaning down to scoop the young boy up into his arms. "Oh," he grunted, settling the boy on his lap. "Julian, you are either getting bigger or I am getting older."

"I think it might be a bit of both," Marietta teased her husband lovingly, soothing his ruffled pride with a soft kiss to his wrinkled cheek.

Stefan smiled at his wife, his eyes following after her helplessly as she moved towards their Christmas tree and rearranged a few of the ornaments, moving the more breakable ones out of the children's reach. He watched her sway to the soft melody that their son was playing on the piano; he was mesmerised by her and he couldn't help but feel blessed for having found love in a century were marriage was thought more of as an arrangement for business and money.

He had met Marietta after a violent time in Mystic Falls and had been stunned by her beauty; oval-shaped face, sparkling green eyes and curls the colour of fire. She had set his world alight.

They had married quickly, not wanting to waste another moment of their lives without the other. Soon enough, their son, Richard, had come along but he was to be their only miracle. They took it in their stride, thankful for the fact that they had managed to form a family of their own at all.

Richard had met a young girl, Clara, and together, they provided Stefan with an even bigger family to love. A six-year old son who was enamoured by his grandfather and a gurgling baby girl who was barely a month old.

"Come to Grandpa," Stefan cooed, reaching his arms across to Clara, smiling when she handed over the brunette-haired baby; his chest swelled with love when the infant nestled against his chest.

Marietta stood behind him, silently gazing down at their granddaughter as her fingers weaved through his silver hair. The family crowded around the fireplace as they observed the effects of the flickering flames on the clear, glass baubles.

Julian watched on, completely entranced, only glancing back when his little sister gurgled quietly. "Rosa," he shushed her quietly, stroking her arm gently.

"How about a Christmas story?" Stefan whispered, watching as his grandson's face positively lit up. He snuggled further into his armchair as his green eyes trailed over the faces of his family, taking in their eager faces and loving smiles. With a soft nod of his head, he palmed Julian's head and ruffled the ginger hair lightly. "It was on a cold winter's night that baby Jesus was born..."

* * *

_I just want to be loved for who I am._

"Honey, I'm home!" Elena giggled as she stepped through the door of the boarding house. She unwrapped her scarf from her neck and swung it over the coat rack.

"Need a hand?"

"Hmm," she moaned appreciatively, closing her eyes as she felt his warm breath on her ear and his hands slowly trailing along the belt on her coat. His deft fingers untied the bow and slowly snapped the buttons open.

He allowed his hands to trail up the length of her arms before dipping his fingertips underneath the collar and slowly prying the fabric from her slender body. He left her standing in a daze, hooking the coat over the protruding wood before he turned around and got his first real glimpse at her.

A red pinafore hugged every curve she possessed and reached to just above her knee, her brunette hair swirled around her breasts and her black heels made her tanned legs look even longer. Mascara lined her eyelashes, making her doe eyes look even more big and welcoming - if that were even possible - and a deep, red lipstick made her lips look plump and oh-so-kissable. His fingers played with the green ribbon that was tied in a bow underneath her breasts.

"Well," he drawled, sliding towards her with a soft and seductive sway to his hips. "You look like you're in dire need of being unwrapped and I will take great pleasure in that later on."

His voice was a deep rumble that had her going weak-kneed and she was thankful when his hands slipped around her waist as he arched her up against his chest. His face moved closer towards hers, his eyes flickering to hers as he closed each tiny, little millimetre between their lips.

Just as his lips made to connect with hers, she turned her head so he ended up kissing her cheek. He groaned, almost inaudibly, in disappointment as her cheek scraped against his. Her teeth tugged at his earlobe sharply before she laved the spot with her tongue.

"No kissing until I get that Death-by-Chocolate cake you promised me," she teased, running her hands up his blue dress shirt. She stepped back and, noticing his protruding bottom lip, she dipped forward and nipped at it with her teeth. He barely had time to gasp before she had turned out of his hold and begun skipping towards the kitchen. He strode behind her and managed to grab her hand as she walked around the table. He tugged her back, spinning her under his arm effortlessly before dipping her to the ground.

Elena giggled heartily, her neck tilted straight back as her hair trailed along the tiled floor. She held onto Damon's biceps as he swept her off the ground and pulled her against his body. _Hard_. She gasped, feeling her soft flesh mould against his hard muscles. She could feel every plane and every ripple and it sent a delicious sense of anticipation coursing through her body. His nose brushed hers and her eyelids fluttered shut automatically as she felt his hips begin to gyrate against hers.

"Dessert?" he chuckled huskily, taking her hand in his as he quickly spun her into a chair. She collapsed against the wooden back of the chair and stared up at him in shock. Damn him. Damn him for being so irresistible. Judging by the smirk that was plastered over his face, he knew exactly what he did to her. As he turned towards the counter, he missed the devilish smile that curled at her lips.

As far as Elena was concerned, it was game on.

Elena toed off her heels as she watched Damon move around the kitchen, his muscles bunching underneath his shirt as he bent and stretched for various items in the cupboards. She crossed her legs, swinging one of them wildly as she drew mindless shapes on the table with her fingertips. Damon returned a few moments later with two plates. He set one down in front of her and she stared at it in awe. The dark, rich smelling slice of chocolate cake sat in the centre of the plate. She watched as the fudge oozed from between the layers of chocolate sponge and dripped onto the silver and black ceramic.

Elena swiped her finger against the slight drizzle of fudge and offered it to Damon. He arched his eyebrow but complied as he leaned in and engulfed her fingertip in his warm mouth. His tongue swirled around her finger, erasing every last morsel of fudge before he nipped the pad of her fingertip with his teeth. She gasped, feeling her body temperature rise; that hot, lust-filled gaze he was sending her did impossible things to her body.

How could one man have such an effect on her?

But as she moved her foot slowly up his calf in a whisper of a caress, his uneven breathing indicated that she had the same effect on him; the breathless, mind numbing, and burning-in-the-loin kind of effect. Her foot rose higher as she rubbed the arch of her foot over his knee in slow circles. She watched him grip the edge of the table as she placed a sliver of the cake on her fork. Noticing his eyes on her, she moaned loudly when the first taste of chocolate hit her tongue.

"Oh, Damon," she mewled, her foot inching up his thigh. "This is amazing."

"I know," he choked, reaching below the table so his hand rested on her shin. At first, she thought he would prevent her from continuing her seduction but when she began trailing her foot up the inside of his thigh, his hand merely glided along her soft skin. Reaching her destination, she grazed her toes along the growing arousal in his dress pants. He was beginning to get painfully hard and each brush of her foot was sweet torture to him.

"Eat," he commanded gruffly, stifling a groan when she pressed her foot firmer against his erection. He watched her like a hawk, trying desperately to concentrate on anything but what she was doing to him underneath the table. A few minutes later and their plates were clean.

"Allow me," Elena whispered, slowly sliding her foot from his lap as she rose from her chair. She bent down in front of him, her breast _accidentally_ brushing against his shoulder. "Oh, sorry," she purred, lifting plate over his head so his gaze was fixed on her chest.

"Don't worry about it," he grumbled, watching as she turned towards the sink, an extra sway in her hips as she did so. He found it impossible not to follow her. She was a siren in red and she was calling to him. His hands covered hers as he pushed his erection against the small of her back, grinning smugly when she gasped in surprise. He rotated his hips ever so slightly as they washed their dishes, their hands never parting even when the lubrication of the soap threatened to break their contact.

"So, Damon, what else was on your Christmas agenda?" she asked breathlessly, feeling his fingers trail first down one side of her neck and then the other.

"Firstly, I want you to come with me to the parlour and secondly, you're to join me in my room for your _very_ special Christmas present," he whispered, his lips moving sensuously against her ear.

Elena nodded her head, taking his hand in hers as he led her to the parlour. She stumbled when he held her back from entering the large room and, instead, held them in place underneath the arch.

"Elena," he uttered softly, hooking his index finger underneath her chin so she had no other option but to fall into the depths of his ocean blue eyes. "How do you feel about Christmas traditions?"

She frowned, startled by his train of thought. "They're okay, I guess."

"Not too cliché?" he wondered aloud, his thumb stroking along her jaw line. "I mean you're wearing red and green right now. Why would that be?"

"They're Christmas colours," she responded quietly. Her tongue reached out to wet her lip before pulling it between her pearly white teeth.

"What about mistletoe, Elena?" he murmured, pulling her lip from between her teeth. "What happens then?"

"People kiss under it," she said breathlessly.

His eyes looked to the arch and hers followed, honing in on the little green sprig with white berries that dangled above their heads. "Now, Elena, what do you think I'm going to do now?"

She opened her mouth, the words carrying on a whisper of a breath. "Kiss me."

He smirked wickedly. "With pleasure."

He was swift as he connected their lips, his hands cupping her face delicately but his lower half showed none of that gentleness. He ground against her, shuffling her back until her back hit the wall. His hands trailed down her body, grazing her breasts and squeezing at her waist before he palmed her ass and lifted her, wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her against the wall in record time… and then they were moving. Stumbling through the darkness as their lips remained locked in a brutal kiss, tongues slid into mouths and teeth nipped at lips, moans were swallowed whole, and gasps faded in the air.

He crashed into his door, somehow managing to stay upright as they entered his room in a tangled mess.

"Wait, wait, wait," he pleaded, pressing his finger to her lips to stop her oncoming assault of kisses. He lowered her to the ground, her tip-toes barely skimming the wooden floor as he laid a resounding kiss to her already swollen lips. "Your present."

"Don't need it," she refuted, gripping onto his collar tightly. "I like this gift a lot."

He looked down at her, using the full force of his electric eyes as she surrendered up the hold she had on his shirt and slowly, her feet slid to the ground. He grabbed her hand and dragged his lips across her knuckles before he was stalking towards his closet and pulling an Ann Summer's bag out.

"What's in that?" She pointed her finger accusingly at the pink bag. Her eyes were glued to him as he pulled out a pair of fluffy handcuffs and two silk ties. Her breath hitched, "You're going to tie me up?"

"Actually," he drawled, "I'm going to let you tie me up."

"But you love being in control," she frowned, accepting the handcuffs he gave her. Her fingers toyed with the black fur as she stared at him in confusion.

"I love you more," he countered. "And I know that you've been dying to get a little dominatrix with me."

She bit her lip nervously when he wriggled his eyebrows at her. Noticing her hesitation, he stepped towards her and swiped a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Hey, don't be shy or embarrassed. I love this side of you; I love all of the little details of who you are."

"Like what?" she smiled, looking up at him innocently.

"Like how sweet and warm-hearted you are but also how devious and, yes, even how stubborn you are. You're a lover _and_ a fighter and I can't get enough of you," he confided.

"Damon," she sing-songed, flicking at one of the buttons on his shirt. Her eyelashes fluttered upwards with the fluidity of a butterfly's wings and she looked at him with such fire in her eyes that he found himself both immensely turned on (as if he wasn't already) and also kind of wary of her next request. "Get on the bed."

Before he could process it, his back was on the mattress and he had a lap full of Elena. She stripped him of his shirt in seconds and fastened his wrists with the handcuffs, the chain safely behind one of the poles of his headboard to ensure he stayed in place. Her fingers unsnapped the button on his dress pants, the sound of the zip echoed in the silence of his bedroom before she slid them down his legs.

"No underwear," she purred. "I like."

He wriggled his eyebrows at her and thrust his hips towards her in silent invitation. "Down boy," she giggled, pulling his foot towards the mast at the corner of the bed. She tied the silk around the wood and his ankle, securing him to one of the posts. She repeated the motions with the other foot so he was spread-eagled across his bed.

Elena bit her lip at the sight; he was magnificent; the mussed up raven hair that adorned his head, courtesy of her roaming fingers; the lust-filled eyes that followed her every movement; the toned chest that heaved with deep breaths; the impressive erection that bobbed heavily between his thighs. And he was all hers.

"Do you want to see what I got you?"

He nodded eagerly, the husky tone of her voice had his hips bucking up. He watched in earnest as her fingers trailed down her neck, across her chest and over her breasts until they tangled in the green ribbon. With a soft tug, it fell to the ground as she reached behind her back and fiddled with the zip. She caressed her shoulders, slowly pulling the red fabric from her skin as she revealed her skin, sliver by sliver. With a deep breath, she dropped the dress and allowed it to fall around her feet.

"Oh, God," he groaned. How had he not noticed _that_ underneath her outfit? She stalked towards the bed, the black PVC shining in the soft glow of the lights. It moulded to her body, pushing her breasts up immensely for his gaze to feast on when she leaned forward to crawl onto the bed. She prowled over him and settled herself on his lap.

"Elena!" he exclaimed in shock, feeling her slick heat against his bare erection. His eyes flicked down to where their bodies met and his eyes bugged out of his head at the crotchless panties she wore. "I love you."

"Good," she grinned, dragging her nails down his chest. "You know, I love everything about you, too, Damon."

He nodded, closing his eyes in pleasure as her hips rocked gently against his. "I love your heart," she placed her hand over his chest and felt it pounding against her palm. "I know it's been broken before but somehow, it still beats for me."

He blinked dazedly, staring at her through half-lidded eyes. "Only you," he affirmed.

"I love this smirk," she leaned down and kissed him lazily and languidly. Their tongues tangled before she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. "You're so smug but I can't help but love it."

She trailed her lips down his throat and over his chest. "I love your soul. You may think it's black and impure but I see it as a pure white glow. There's so much goodness in you but I can't lie, I have a soft spot for the badness, too."

"Elena," he grunted, struggling against his binds. "You're killing me here."

"Do you know what else I love about you?" she smirked sexily. "Your cockiness; both meanings. Sometimes, your attitude blows, but then, so do I."

He gulped harshly, watching her slither down his body before he felt her warm mouth engulf the tip of his penis. His back arched as she twirled her tongue along his length. She sunk down between his thighs, licking him from base to tip before she began to suck on his erection. Her cheeks hollowed as he began to writhe beneath her.

"Elena, Elena, Elena," he chanted, thrashing his head against the pillow in a desperate attempt to control his bucking hips. Before he could stop it, he thrust up into her mouth and spilled himself down her throat. She drank him in greedily, leaning back on her calves as she wiped away the remnants of his pleasure from the corners of her mouth. She pressed a kiss to his belly button and perched over his lap.

Damon opened his eyes wearily, his body basking in the glow of satiation when he felt her wet heat slowly slip onto the tip of his arousal. He felt himself grow impossibly hard as she sank down onto him. She leaned her head back, taking a moment to revel in the pleasure of having him fully seated inside of her core. With frenzied movements, she began thrusting herself up and down his length, her breasts bouncing in the corset, threatening to spill out of the PVC costume.

Her hands landed on his chest, using his body to give herself more momentum as she strived to reach her orgasm. Feeling the familiar pooling in her stomach, she ground her hips against his with each thrust so her clitoris was stimulated by his pelvic bone.

"Damon," she moaned as she felt her walls begin to flutter. Her walls contracted with increasing force as she spiralled into her orgasm, the fluttering of her sex pulling Damon along with her. He came with a yell of her name and spilled himself inside of her. She sat in a pleasure-filled daze before her body slumped forward.

* * *

A collective gasp sounded as everyone was jolted out of their dream. Elena frowned, feeling the soft body beneath her. Realising her head was in Damon's lap, she quickly shuffled out of his hold and tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. Damon rubbed the back of his neck wearily, his eyes flitting over to Elena every few moments. Stefan used the couch to pull himself up from the ground, offering Caroline a hand as he did so.

Bonnie and Jeremy pushed themselves away from the table and stood up unsteadily. Their eyes met and a new kind of understanding bloomed there.

"I'm going to go home," Bonnie announced, grabbing her bag hastily. She looked at Jeremy insistently and he made a grumbled excuse before leaving. Elena didn't fail to notice the way their hands tangled when they exited the Boarding House.

"Yeah, so am I," Caroline smiled. "I'm going to spend some time with my Mom." She waved happily and practically skipped out the door.

Stefan stared at Damon and Elena awkwardly before he, too, made a swift exit, mumbling something about visiting the cemetery.

"So," Damon mused, nudging his arm against her. He arched his eyebrow when she jumped away from him. "Good dream?"

"Uh, yeah." She cleared her throat, avoiding his gaze. "You?"

"_Very_ good," he smirked, wriggling his eyebrows at her.

"So, um, yeah, I should..." She hooked her thumb over her shoulder, quickly grabbing her jacket from the chair. "Go."

He nodded in understanding. "I'll walk you out."

As they passed under the arch, their eyes moved upwards unconsciously. Damon and Elena froze in place when they noticed the sprig of mistletoe. "Elena," he murmured, meeting her doe eyes. "What happens with mistletoe?"

Her eyes widened, "People kiss under it."

Damon's jaw fell open slightly and their expressions were equally matched in degrees of shock. "What… am I going to do, Elena?"

She closed her eyes, breathing out, "Kiss me."

His lips found hers in a tentative kiss, a mere press of lips on lips. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Damon?" she moaned, her lips kissing his chin. "What did you dream about?"

"Well," he mused, running his nose along her forehead. "There was a ridiculously hot girl straddling me for most of mine. You?"

"I was straddling a ridiculously hot guy for most of mine," she admitted, gulping harshly.

"Which means..." he trailed off.

"That we dreamt of each other," she continued, nodding in agreement. "Do you know what that means?"

He smiled, pressing his lips quickly to hers. "It means we're about to go make that dream a reality, sweetheart."

Elena barely had time to gasp before she was in his arms and he was carrying her towards the staircase. "Damon, were we vampires or humans?"

Damon frowned, pausing with one foot on the first stair. "I don't think we were anything. We both wanted to be accepted for who we were, I guess it didn't matter _what_ we were."

"I love you," she responded sweetly, twirling her fingers in his hair.

He smiled brightly, trudging up the stairs. "I love you, too, my little dominatrix." He closed his bedroom door with his foot. The slam echoed throughout the house but soon, love-filled moans and blissed-out groans were the only sounds to fill the house that Christmas Eve.

* * *

_As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts! I hope everyone had a great Christmas and I hope 2013 is good to us all :D Amy xo_

_Twitter: _amygerrard_


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